


I was in the darkness, so darkness I became

by bemusedlybespectacled (ardentintoxication)



Series: Hurt/Comfort Bingo [2013] [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, Gen, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Torture, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentintoxication/pseuds/bemusedlybespectacled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki falls from the Bifrost and is caught by the Chitauri. How could such creatures force a god to kneel?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I was in the darkness, so darkness I became

He falls.

He thought to die, when he let go of Gungnir, but even as he let go he realized his folly. Falling only kills when there is a place to break.

He falls, slipping between the cracks of the worlds, surrounded by nothing but stars.

Perhaps he sees monsters.

* * *

They catch him. They are chittering beings, more like insects than anything, with faces like clean skulls. They are not the most frightening thing Loki has seen; indeed, he believes they are his rescuers at first, here to save him from the ancient terrors of space and time. But his strength is not what it was, not after going so long without food or water, and they overpower him easily. They drag him back with them to their great serpentine ships, and bind him tight and fast with shackles more cunning than those the dwarfs ever made to hold him.

* * *

The room is hot. Asgardian summers were always too warm for him, even though to Thor and the others they were positively mild (another thing he had noticed, and ignored, to his folly). This room is hotter than even the fires of Muspelheim, oppressive, bearing down on him until he cannot summon the concentration to cast even the simplest of spells. He knows, vaguely, that there are cooling spells, spells that could summon water or sheath him in ice, but the heat penetrates even his thoughts. The greatest pains are nothing compared to the stitching of his lips, the greatest fears pale in comparison to that which gripped his heart when the dwarves came for his head.

But this is not pain. This is not fear. This is simply heat. He cannot escape it, he cannot bear it, he cannot sink into any place within himself that might offer him refuge. There is nowhere within himself to go.

Perhaps he will die here. He is immortal, yes, but not invincible. He can go longer without food or water than most, but that is not infinite. He will die, and the heat will melt his bones, and he will be free.

* * *

He comes. Their leader (for he must be their leader) comes and with him, cold. Loki would cry, but his tears have long since evaporated, and he has no water within him to make more.

"And who have we found here?" he says, his voice the dangerous soft of a man used to speaking loudly.

Loki tries to speak, but his tongue and throat are completely dry.

There is a harsh command to get him water, and when it comes Loki does not even have the strength to sit up on his own. Instead, one of the chitterers comes and pours it down his parched throat, and he drinks until he is nearly sick with it. Finally, he finds the strength to speak.

"I am Loki," he says, and coughs to hide his pause, because he cannot think of what to call himself. He is not Odinson, nor is he Laufeyson. "I am of Asgard," he says, rather than give either name. It's true enough.

"Not many can fall between the worlds and live," says their leader. He seems thoughtful.

"Not many are like me," says Loki.

"Indeed," is the reply, with something like humor. "But tell me this, _Loki of Asgard_ ," and there's a sneer in that voice that Loki bristles at, "for what purpose should I keep you alive?"

So it is to be that sort of game. "It depends entirely on what is it you need me to do," he says, smirking.

"Do not be so flippant with me," is the booming shout that fills the tiny cell. "I, Thanos, do not have patience for your obfuscations."

So his name is Thanos, it seems. "I did not mean-"

But his captor is already walking away. "Set the heat on again," says Thanos.

Loki screams until he cannot.

* * *

There is a pattern, after that. With Thanos, the room is cool. Without him, sweltering heat. Water and food are brought, though he remains bound. His magic, expending itself entirely just to keep him alive, is not enough to cast a glamour or an illusion, or even to cut the chains of strange, alien metal about his wrists and ankles. What he does instead is talk. He fills Thanos' head with tales of Midgard, of his dreams to sit on the throne he deserves. He lies, and he lies, until even he believes the story: that he was toppled from a deserved throne by an ever-golden and never-loving brother, that his truest wish is to conquer that which his brother holds dear.

Thanos listens to his tales, and believes. "I, too, had a brother," he says once. "He was ever beloved by the people, but I, who appeared as the enemy of my people through accident of birth alone, was outcast and shunned. I know your pain, Loki of Asgard."

Loki has never heard those words before, and in that moment he forgets everything but the wild joy of being understood.

"What would you do, Asgardian," Thanos says, "for revenge?"

* * *

He cannot bring himself to love his captors, for when they are gone the heat is as oppressive as ever, bearing down on him without mercy. But still he clings to what he knows: that he is not dead, that he has the chance to escape, that he will be able to lead an army to Midgard and perhaps catch the attention of his elder brother, always so protective of the Midgardians though their lives are but a flash compared to his.

Perhaps he will find a way back to Asgard. Perhaps Odin will see what he is capable of.

* * *

They send him bound for Midgard, though it takes him days to reach it. Each night when he stops his journey on the crooked starlit roads, the Chitauri and Thanos are in his dreams. He cannot escape so easily. He walks through the door the Tesseract has opened, finally cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Florence + The Machine's "Cosmic Love." The theory that Loki was tortured with heat comes from [this photoset.](http://bemusedlybespectacled.tumblr.com/post/59078306133/muchymozzarella-donutsandcoffeeforalostlove)
> 
> I'm not that familiar with comics!Chitauri or Thanos, though I do know that the Chitauri in the comics are very different than what was shown in the movie. So these are movie Chitauri. Deal with it.
> 
> For the square "Stockholm Syndrome" for hurt/comfort bingo, and also a Secret Santa present for [catcheri](http://catcheri.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, formerly known as passthegoddamnpotatoes.


End file.
